Moonlit Musings
by xtwilightzx
Summary: (One-Shot) Restless on the night of his birthday, Sirius steals outside to spend the night in his canine form. A birthday gift for a friend.


**Moonlit Musings. **

(One-Shot) Restless on the night of his birthday, Sirius steals outside to spend the night in his canine form. A birthday gift for a friend.

**Disclaimer:** **Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. **

AN: My first time writing a Harry Potter fic. Written in the crazy hours of the night, and completely unbetaed, so please forgive any grammar or coherency mistakes. A gift for one of my best friends, Sharon. Happy Birthday, dear, and hope you like this!

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He lay spread eagle on his bed, listening to the calm silence that permeated the air. The last of the "guests" had fallen asleep about an hour ago, but he didn't want to risk waking any of them up. So he lay in bed and just stared at the ceiling.

It was his birthday tonight, his seventeenth birthday, and in honor of that most important date, his friends had sprung a "surprise" party for him in the very heart of the house common room. They were a popular bunch, and with his dark locks and well defined features, Sirius Black was one of the most admired and sought after boy, with the shaky exception of his best friend, James Potter. Well, Sirius just wasn't particularly interested in any girl at the moment, and James had eyes for only one flower, but the duo were famous for their quick intelligence and yet insatiable thirst for mischief. Needless to say, the rest of Gryffindor house joined in enthusiastically to celebrate dark and somewhat mysterious Black's birthday.

It was strange. Even though it'd happen about three years in a row, he still found himself surprised whenever his friends sprung something like this on him. His school years were far different from his childhood days, and contrasted so deeply with each other that it was impossible to compare the two. And yet, Sirius often found himself comparing the two, and shuddered in deep relief that he was living at Hogwarts, not at the insufferable death-life parlor of a house.

He hated his parents, hated practically his entire family. If given a choice, he would rather be out on the streets begging to earn his keep then to stay in that dark house, and pampered into a snotty, smug kid.

The glorious house of Black. My, but he was _proud_ of being from that clan.

_One should not harbor such dark thoughts on the eve of one's birthday_

He threw off the covers and sat up slowly in bed, His bed was conveniently located by the window; one fast glance told him that there was a full moon this night, filling the dormitory with a soft silvery glow.

In one corner lay Remus, just barely visible through the bedside drapes half pushed aside. Sirius smiled, a lopsided smile that spoke of irony. Funny how the werewolf boy felt so grateful for their friendship, and yet Sirius was the one who wanted to thank the gentle, even tempered boy for all he had done. He stood, and drifted silently past the bed next to his, its occupant curled up in a tight ball. Peter was such a timid person; in many ways, Sirius and James were the ones who always had to protect and guide the younger boy. Peter's personality practically radiated a signal to bullies, a _here I am, a vulnerable target_ vibe, but with his friends around, Peter was safe, especially with James around.

And speak of the devil… Sirius padded past the last bed and its occupant: James Potter, his best friend and fellow mischief maker. Sirius couldn't help the impish grin that crossed his lips as memories of their many pranks crossed his mind. Then, he was out the door, stepping down the stairs and crossing the dimly lit main room. Just before exiting the portrait, he concentrated on the image of a dog, and transposed himself into the shape.

Such was the ability of an Animagus.

He was a fine specimen of a dog; a noble cross between a husky and perhaps something wilder. He was covered with long, silky gray fur, a shade so dark that it was almost black. In the deep of the night, it absorbed the shadows like a dry sponge and hid him from the most prying eyes. When he, Prongs, Moony and Wormtail went on one of their wild rampages around the school, he became as pliant as a loveable mutt, and after a wet run through the edges of the Forbidden Forest, he came out looking like a mud drenched and scruffy excuse for a mongrel. But one only had to steal a glance into his eyes to see that there was more to his playful canine form. There was a wild and carefree soul within those dark orbs, a subtle fire in the dark slits of his irises that refused to be chained.

Sirius would be lying if he didn't admit that he was nothing but a wolf at heart.

He padded past the Fat Lady, and black as death, and padded across the winding corridors, soft footfalls barely audible. His ears were pricked forward for any sign of teachers, and his nose – far superior to any human's – picked up a myriad scents, sorting and identifying them within seconds. His restlessness made him a little less then cautious; the moment he caught sight of the great door, he broke into a fast dash, somehow elbowing the heavy door away and springing off, clearing the flight of steps in a single bound as the whiff of fresh, cool air hit his nose.

Settling down into a comfortable, loping trot, he felt the sudden burst of intense joy as he was suddenly freed from the restrains of the school. There was nothing like a midnight run around the grounds of the school to cheer him up. The moon was full; luminous against a circle of clouds, and Sirius had to resist the urge to sit back on his haunches and fill the skies with the calls of his kind. Instead, he leaped to and fro, changing courses at a wimp, sometimes lurking from shadow to shadow, more often than not, just running through the windswept fields.

Despite his directionless course, Sirius soon found himself approaching the corner of the lake, where a cluster of stout oak trees made a ring. A large, high boulder stood at the edge of the water; a perfect ledge for one to practice diving from, and it was onto this that Sirius leaped upon and halted.

He stared at the scene before him, watching the moonlight glint off the surface of the water, heard the lapping swishes as waves washed gently against the shore. Tongue rolling out of his jaws in canine laughter, Sirius flicked his bushy gray tail against his paws and absorbed breathtaking view.

Seventeen. He was seventeen now. The first thing he was going to do was to move everything and anything belonging to him out of his house. There was no way he was going to stand another summer at that godforsaken house; his parent's intense disapproval in him and the grotesque display of decapitated house elves served as further incentive for him to take control of his own life.

A soft growl escaped him, his fangs glinting briefly in the silvery light.

Never will he willingly tie himself down. His parents and their dark ways had held him, imprisoned him for the past seventeen years; now it was his turn to emerge as leader of the pack.

A wolf takes no orders; they serve only out of loyalty and kinship, and Sirius felt neither for his family.

Just how long he'd been sitting there, his canine senses couldn't tell, but quite some time had passed when he heard soft hoof falls thud against the ground. His ears flickered towards the sound, but he otherwise gave no indication of noticing the intrusion as a large stag trotted into the clearing, antlers standing stark against the night sky.

"Padfoot?" Ah, James had already transformed back.

Heaving a silent sigh, Sirius flickered back into his own form, still seated in a crouch before the lake. "Hey, Prongs."

"A little late for a midnight running, don't you think?"

Sirius flashed his infamous grin. "Since when did you oppose that, James? We've been running around the school for almost two years now." He shoved his long bangs out of his eyes, wondering for a moment why James was here – and then he dismissed it.

Those green eyes studied him for a moment. "I just wondered what was so… important that you had to sneak out in the middle of the night by yourself."

"I just needed… some time to myself."

James raised one eyebrow. Moments passed, and just as Sirius was about to break the uncomfortable silence, he nodded, his hair ruffling up even more in the stiff wind. Stepping forward, he clapped one hand against Sirius' shoulder.

"Remember not to get caught, and _be careful,_ Padfoot," was all he said before the proud stag leaped out of the clearing, making for the school.

Sirius stared for a moment at Jame's disappearing shadow. And suddenly knew why he'd somewhat expected him to come.

It was James. And amongst many things, James was the one person who knew him best. Sirius smiled. Well enough, it seemed, that he understood Sirius' growing attachment to his alternate form, for it represented everything – the freedom, the will, the strength – Sirius wanted in his own life. And there was trust in the exchange as well. Jame's trust in Sirius to take care of himself, and to open up to his friends when the time came.

Perhaps Sirius was finally free from his parent's dark heritage. He no longer needed to prove himself different from them…

He slipped back into his dog form, and sniffed at the cold air, ears pricked forward to listen to any sound, any sign of life around him. The trees, the very air itself felt alive; not too far away, his sensitive ears picked up the soft thuds as Prongs leaped and galloped his way back to school.

So he sat down, paws tucked neatly against his body, his long, bushy tail curly around his legs to warm them, feeling a night breeze ruffling his fur and spent the last few hours of his birthday in his canine form, reveling in the lack of the human chains of life – away from the school, away from the human need for continuity and structured boundaries.

He sat in the midst of nature, and basked in the light of the heaven's night sky, in the fiery joy of being free and unburdened by petty human worries. His was a soul that could never be chained down, for he possessed an unbreakable will, fostered, perhaps, by his wolfish nature.

Out here, it was just him and the moon's steady glow, unmoving in silent communion.

He stayed and reveled in nature's magic.

It seemed appropriate that way.

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Drop a comment if you like it, please.


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